


The Illustrious Master Izunia

by Jerevinan



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Steampunk, Laboratories, Not Canon Compliant, Prom goes somewhat dark here, inventions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-20
Updated: 2017-11-11
Packaged: 2018-11-16 11:42:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11252430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jerevinan/pseuds/Jerevinan
Summary: Prompto scores an apprenticeship under Gralea’s most famous inventor, Ardyn Izunia. But most of what he finds out as the days pass is that the laboratory holds secrets and locked doors, all barring him from progress.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I can’t remember how it happened, but I was inspired to write this by the song [“Waking the Monster” by Darren Hayes](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YT03XP5jtgo). That isn’t a blueprint, by any means, as to how this fic will go, but this idea was spawned from that song. I have no idea how this will go, but I have a rough idea.
> 
> This story will have a steampunk/industrial theme, and [I’ve actually drawn an outfit for Prompto](http://mcalhen.tumblr.com/post/161959514436/so-a-week-or-so-ago-i-mentioned-i-wanted-to) for this story.
> 
> shoutout to greyskiesblack for her awesome encouragement on this story and letting me babble about this story, thank you!

_The air was heavy with the stench of blood and gunpowder._

_“Why would you do this?” pleaded a raspy voice, and Prompto couldn’t tell if it was his own._

_Prompto steadied his gun and pulled the trigger again. And again. He could taste copper in his mouth. It felt right to take the lead with his destiny._

_The bullets were spent, and the gun clicked several empty shots before he removed his finger from the trigger. The satisfaction wilted away. There were no more voices as darkness swelled closer and closer to the center of his vision._

~*~

“So you’re the new apprentice?” 

“Yeah. Prompto Argentum.” Prompto held out a hand, but the woman didn’t take it. She didn’t even bother to look at it.

Aranea, a guard at the Niflheim Research Center, stared Prompto up and down with a hand on her hip. He felt like an idiot under her gaze, especially when she laughed in a way that he couldn’t decide whether to take as friendly or mocking.

“I wouldn’t want to be an apprentice under _that_ one,” she muttered. “All right, come along, newbie.” She waved him forward down the corridor. Prompto dared a glance at the two men stationed at the gate. One of them smirked at him.

He ducked his head down and followed. The rubber of his new boots squeaked against the tiled floors, adding to his humiliation. His first day, thus far, was going about as well as he had anticipated during his sleepless night before: _terrible._

“How’d you get chosen for this anyway?” asked Aranea.

“Huh?” Prompto looked up. She steered him around a corner, another wide hallway full of metal, automatic doors and polished floors. “Oh, um. Through the university. He interviewed all the applicants and chose me.”

“So you’ve already met him, and you still decided to go through with it?”

They paused at an elevator, and she jammed her entire fist against a button to summon it. 

“Ardyn Izunia is only the greatest inventor of our time,” said Prompto, sighing. “Maybe you don’t understand his achievements.”

She gazed at him steadily. He should have kept his loud mouth shut.

“Maybe I don’t,” she admitted. “I’m not an inventor. But he still gives me the creeps.”

“That’s because he’s brilliant. I can’t believe he…” _Chose a plebe like me._ Prompto grinned to hide the concern that perhaps, no, this had all been a mistake. As soon as he entered the laboratory, he would be sent away while they laughed at his retreating back. “It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity.” He had used the same phrase with his adoptive parents, when they voiced concerns over his working deeper in the city and moving into his own apartment.

The elevator doors stopped, gliding smoothly open. The cabin was spacious, and Prompto clung to a corner opposite of Aranea, both hands clutching the railing. It was cool, making him wish he had worn a jacket over his sleeveless shirt. 

Aranea pressed a button. Prompto realized too late that he should have been paying more attention. He needed to learn the layout of the building without an escort, or he would have to ask tomorrow, and the next day—and soon, they would all be frustrated with him. Even if he kept the job, someone would dismiss him for not paying enough attention.

He pushed away his fear and asked, “What floor?”

“Eleven.”

“Are we going to his office?”

“We’re going to your lab.”

Prompto pointed at his chest. “Mine? You mean I get my own?”

She shrugged. “I guess. You’ll have to talk to Ardyn about that.”

Prompto blinked. He didn’t think he would get his own workspace for some time. His inventions had been praised, but he knew their history: they had short lifespans before some important device malfunctioned, or he used materials within his budget that never had the same results as mythril and orichalcum. He would need money, too—grants to fund his research.

But they could have given him a closet and he would have been grateful. His parents’ home had never had the space, and his new apartment had even less.

The eleventh floor didn’t have the prestige of the first. The halls were narrower, the doors manual rather than automatic. Many of them had dirty glass windows. Boxes lined the walls, making it hard to navigate through the corridors.

Aranea knocked on a door at the end of the hall.

“Come in, come in!” The voice on the other side was cheerful and familiar. Prompto recognized it from his interview, which he thought he had failed miserably at the time it was conducted.

His heart twisted. The time had come for him to be informed that he was the wrong applicant, that he had been rejected and someone else was meant to receive their letter of acceptance into the apprenticeship.

He didn’t want to let go, for the spell to be snapped away and leave him in a cold reality, where he would have to find a factory job and move back in with his parents.

He couldn’t face his parents if that happened. They had been so proud of him. Had bragged to all their friends. The shame would kill him.

“Well, go on,” said Aranea, holding the door open for him.

“Oh, right.” Prompto skipped past her into the room.

The lab was a little messier than the hallway, but two walls were lined with windows, letting in fresh light—and air, if they could be cracked open. The workspace was bigger than his apartment, too, and it had its own storage closet. Near the door, next to the cabinet along the wall, Ardyn Izunia poured himself a cup of coffee.

“Thank you, Aranea,” said Ardyn, waving her out. She nodded and ducked out, closing the door behind her. He turned back to Prompto and smiled. “Coffee?”

“Y-yes please!”

“Sugar? Cream?” Ardyn reached into the cabinet above and pulled out a mug. 

“I can get it.” Prompto hurried to stand beside him. Ardyn slid the mug across the countertop and allowed him to stir in generous helpings of sugar and cream. “Thank you.”

“Prompto Argentum,” said Ardyn, studying him. “I’ve looked forward to your first day as my apprentice ever since your interview.”

“Really? Thank you!” Prompto’s voice was high-pitched, and to shut himself up, he took a sip of coffee instead. It scalded his tongue. He sucked in a whimper and swallowed.

“Careful now, it’s freshly brewed.” Ardyn set his mug on a coffee table and eased into the worn leather sofa against the wall. “Come sit with me. We’ll talk.”

Prompto took one of the matching arm chairs.

“This workshops is yours,” said Ardyn, fluidly gesturing with his hands. “You may throw out the trash and keep whatever you like. The research team that owned this space has since been disbanded and moved on to other places. They won’t mind if you clear the place out and start from scratch.”

“Shouldn’t I be working with you?” asked Prompto.

“No, we’ll start in here. I want to see what you can do, now that you’ll have better equipment and materials.”

“But I’ll need money for that.”

“I have ample funds. You need only ask, and you shall receive.”

“That sounds almost too good to be true. But…thank you, Doctor Izunia.”

“Call me Master Izunia,” said Ardyn, widening his smile. “You are my apprentice, and I am the master of this craft.”

“Master Izunia,” repeated Prompto. “Thank you!”

“Your first week should be spent cleaning and organizing, making this a space in which you’ll thrive.”

“What will I work on first?” asked Prompto.

Ardyn wagged a finger at him. “You will find out in a week. Until then, your first assignment is to make this your home. I will be in my lab on the sixteenth floor. If you’re lost, most of the rooms have an intercom.” He pointed to a place near the door where there was a control panel next to the light switch, and above it, a metal grate and a dusty speaker. A sheet was taped to the wall beside it, offering the number combinations to contact specific rooms. “There are no maps in this place. See to it that you avoid spending your precious first week lost rather than attending to your first assignment.”

Prompto had expected something different—to clean _Ardyn’s_ laboratory, to study books, to stand over his teacher’s shoulder and observe.

“My, you look positively frightened. Don’t be. I assure you that this is the grandest opportunity any young person could receive. I seldom take on apprentices after that dreadful tragedy with the last one.”

Prompto had read the news article from six years before; the last apprentice had been doing field research with Ardyn when she was attacked by wild beasts.

“I’m sorry,” said Prompto.

“It was hard on me. Do be careful not to get injured or do anything reckless. It would mean a great deal to me if you were…intact.”

Prompto decided not to share how clumsy he could be. He tripped on everything, and it was a miracle that he had never lost a finger or had fuel splash into his eye when a tube came loose.

“I’ll try my best!”

Ardyn grinned. “That’s brilliant. I hope we’ll learn a great deal from each other.”

“Oh, I’ll be the one doing all the learning!”

“That’s where you’re mistaken. We all learn from each other, no matter how intelligent we think we are.”

Ardyn stood, brushing off his grand coat with the sweep of his palms. He held out his hand, and Prompto shook it, blushing when he realized his were sweaty.

“I look forward to seeing what you can do, Mr. Argentum. Or may I call you Prompto?”

“Prompto’s fine!”

“Prompto, then.” Ardyn took off his hat and bowed, and Prompto, having no idea how to respond, bowed as well. “I bid you farewell for now. Don’t be afraid to find me. Ask me for anything.”

He had been gone for twenty minutes before Prompto stopped staring at the door. He turned his head slowly, taking in the sight of the crowded boxes jammed on one shelving unit, the dusty cabinets lining the inside walls, the greasy residue smeared on the glass of the windows. It would take a lot of work to make this place functional. He would create a new mess, one that belonged to him.

Prompto hunted down the trash bin, grabbed a box, and sat on a stool at one of the work benches. He had several hours until his shift would end. He had forgotten to ask when he should take his lunch break. It seemed silly to chase after Ardyn and ask him when he could eat when he had yet to begin making any progress. He began to sort everything by whether it needed to go out to recycling, be trashed, or kept for his own purposes. 

The first week wouldn’t be so bad, but he was looking forward to what lie beyond in the weeks ahead.


	2. Chapter 2

Prompto may or may not have been sidetracked by the tons of amazing research his peers had performed before him. Throwing them out seemed wasteful. He spent a lot of time jotting down ideas in a notebook or penciling in adjustments on blueprints to improve models. He had access to a computer, too, but the fans needed cleaned and it was outdated for anything other than to use as an archive for text files.

He only cleaned a couple of windows, the ones facing the inner city and less of the smokestacks to the east of Gralea’s horizon. The north often brought down chilling winds this time of year, so he kept them shut. They could open, though—he discovered this the first day. And while sometimes the air wasn’t clean over Gralea, his workspace stank of worse things. He found more than one dead mouse while moving the furniture. Dead bugs littered the windowsills and corners of the room. The kitchenette area was the only place anyone had disinfected before Prompto’s room assignment.

The place had more dust than his new apartment. He missed the quiet suburbs of his parents’ home, where they lived in a brick abode with morning glories creeping up to the iron-railed balcony of the condo above. He called them that morning, but no one answered. They were busy. Even if they were always working and often distant, they had always been caring, but it left him feeling empty, as if something were missing in his life.

Inventions had often filled that gap.

There was a static sound, and a tinny male voice he didn’t recognize came over the intercom.

“Prompto Argentum to room 806.”

Prompto tapped the research papers against the table into a neat stack and brushed his hands against his pants. Floor eight? What was on floor eight? His brain had dumped most of the map information in favor of sponging more research data, and he couldn’t recall what departments were assigned to which part of the building. All he could remember was that Zegnautus Keep—a separate sector of the center—required special credentials to enter. According to Aranea, if security even suspected you were up to something, they would shoot you before you could make it past the gates. 

He didn’t want to be seen as suspicious, so he kept an eye on the navigation signs.

Prompto found the room on the eighth floor easily enough. He didn’t have to stray too far down the first corridor once he stepped off the elevator. The lighting above him was brighter, the floors cleaner. Most of the rooms had scan locks next to their windowless doors. Prompto had been given a coded wristband with minimal access. If he wasn’t supposed to be in a room, it wouldn’t let him in. Out of curiosity, he had tried one of the other doors on his floor, and it had denied him entry.

He fingered the thick plastic band. It logged his hours when he clocked in and out every morning with it. Barcodes were simple technology.

He wanted to create something greater someday. Like a time machine. He could go back and prevent the war with Lucis if he only had the right materials and mathematical formulas for it.

Prompto held his band over the scanner for room 806. The door buzzed and clicked open. 

“Hello?”

A man was hunched over a microscope, his feathery blond hair obscuring his face. He held up one finger to silence Prompto.

Prompto hovered near the door, one leg bouncing. 

“There, I’m done,” said the man, raising his head. He narrowed his eyes when he caught sight of Prompto. “So you’re Izunia’s new pet.”

“Pet?” asked Prompto, hating the sound of that phrase. Aranea had mentioned something similar over lunch the other day.

“I’m Loqi Tummelt. I’m a…colleague of Izunia’s.”

“Nice to meet you?”

Loqi stuck his hands in the pocket of his lab coat. “Do you like working here?”

“I haven’t exactly started…” Prompto fussed with the hair on the back of his neck. “I’m still cleaning my lab. So what is it you do?”

“I’m in the military.”

“But you’re in a lab coat. You don’t look like someone in the military.” Then again, neither did Aranea, who had been temporarily assigned to guarding the research center while Lucis and Niflheim chose to race over technological advances rather than take their argument to the battlefield.

“I’m testing something out,” Loqi snapped. After a pause, he calmed down. “I’m working on a mech to aid in combat.”

Prompto wasn’t sure if that was the sort of information he should have been hearing at his security level, but he didn’t answer.

“What is it you plan to do while you’re here?” asked Loqi, fiddling with a stack of papers at the end of his desk and avoiding eye contact.

“Um, doesn’t it say in my file?”

“I haven’t seen your file. Izunia keeps that information to himself. Only the higher ups like Minister Besithia have seen it. I’m not privy.” Loqi’s gaze flickered up for a moment. “You can tell me. I have clearance.” As if to confirm, he lifted his arm. The sleeve of his coat fell, revealing his bar code. Without a computer to read it, that told Prompto absolutely nothing.

But then, nothing about Prompto’s intended research was secretive, either.

“I have a few projects in mind, but the first ones are the easiest. I want to design systems for houses that will perform mediocre tasks for families. That way, parents can spend more time with their kids.” 

Loqi snorted. “That’s idealistic.”

Prompto flinched. 

“You must have something bigger in mind. Something that caught Izunia’s attention.”

“Isn’t that why he chose me?” Prompto’s voice croaked.

“If you think he was interested in some young boy’s dreams that his parents would have more time for him, you’re mistaken.”

The attack went right in Prompto’s heart, and he began to fuss with his wristband, the plastic edges unpleasantly rubbing against his skin.

“What is your big dream, Argentum?” asked Loqi, smirking.

“Uh…ending the war, I suppose.”

“In what way?”

Prompto had a feeling he would be mocked if he admitted to his dream of building a time machine, so he said, “Submarines?”

Loqi raised an eyebrow. “We have some idea of how to make submarines. There are already people working on that.” He shrugged. “Fine, don’t tell me. We’ll find out in a month if Izunia gets bored of your boyish ideas or if there’s something more to you. I’ll be in touch.”

He waved Prompto toward the door.

Prompto left, eager to be away from Loqi’s company.

~*~

Aranea joined Prompto for lunch. The two had been taking their meals together a lot. Sometimes she brought Biggs and Wedge with her, and they were friendly enough company. They liked to talk about the war a lot more than Prompto could follow or stomach. Neither of them had joined this time; they were in another corner of the cafeteria, talking to one of the on-duty security guards.

“Do you know Loqi Tummelt?” asked Prompto before he bit into his sandwich.

Aranea laughed, slapping her palm on the surface of the cafeteria table. “Ah, what about him?” she asked, grinning wide. “I can tell you all about that demoted little sack of shit.”

“Demoted?” 

“Yeah, got his ass kicked in a few battles. He’s known for acting before he thinks. They bumped him down to research—might’ve booted him out of the military entirely if he didn’t have a way with mechs.”

“I met him today. He wanted to know what I was working on.” Prompto set down his sandwich and began to pick at the crust. “Said my ideas were childish.”

Aranea rolled her eyes and took a bite of her chicken.

“He might be right.”

“Does it matter? Loqi’s known for throwing tantrums, even when he’s behind a mech.”

“I don’t know about that.”

“I do. I’ll tell you something about that. He got into it with Cor the Immortal. You know who that is, right?”

Prompto nodded. “A little bit. He’s that Crownsguard guy in Lucis, right? Serves the king?”

“Yeah, and he’s dangerous if you don’t know what you’re doing. He started serving the king’s father before he was even in high school. What we have in military technology, Cor the Immortal makes up for with classic strength. We need ten of our best to consider taking him on. We’ve seen him beaten a few times, but never for long. He always gets back up.”

“Is that why he’s called ‘the Immortal’?”

Aranea shrugged. “Hell if I know where he got the name. It sounds scary enough, and you probably should be scared. The problem is, Loqi doesn’t have the brain to know when he should be afraid. He bulldozed into a fight with Cor and scrapped his mech to pieces. Barely got out alive. If Minister Besithia hadn’t spoken up for him, he would’ve been shipped back to his parents in the country, where he could work on a farm for the three months it isn’t Shiva’s chilly tits out there.”

Prompto tried to laugh, but it didn’t feel right to make fun of Loqi the same way it hadn’t felt good to be on the receiving end.

Aranea bumped him with her elbow. “Cheer up. Loqi’s an ass. The few times I’ve spoken with him, he’s always arrogant.”

“Thanks, but he had me figured out.”

“In what way?”

Prompto sighed. “You promise not to laugh?”

“Only if it’s not funny.” But when he glanced up at her, she smiled sincerely.

“I want to invent things that do things to save people time, so they can do other things…like spend time with their kids.”

“Why would that be funny? Kinda cute, but not funny.”

“Yeah, well he figured out why I wanted to do it.”

“Hey, lots of us have lonely childhoods. I’m an orphan. Biggs and Wedge have been my family since I joined the military at sixteen. I’m not going to piss on anyone’s dreams of being close to their parents.”

Prompto felt some of the tension leave his body. “Yeah, you’re right. It’s not a bad thing.”

“I don’t think it’s why Izunia chose you, though.” Aranea took a sip of her coffee as she gave a single shoulder shrug. 

“Huh. Loqi said something similar.”

“Well, if you think Loqi is weird…”

“Maybe that’s the life of a genius.”

“I don’t think _you’re_ weird. You’re one of the most normal people here.” 

“Are you saying I’m a genius?”

Aranea scowled. “Don’t make me take it back.”

Prompto held up his hands. “All right, all right.” He picked his sandwich back up. His appetite had started to return. “Thanks, though. I appreciate it.”

“Any time.”

Aranea had no idea how much she had restored Prompto’s faith not only in himself but in his work, but he decided not to be a total sap and spill it all to her.

Still, he was puzzled why Loqi had wanted to talk to him, and even more on why everyone seemed to dislike Ardyn Izunia so much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I like writing Aranea and Prompto together, and that increased after Episode Prompto ^^;
> 
> I have no idea what I'm even doing with the technology in this story, it's like...half-steam, half-computerized. It's a mess, I admit it. And Prompto wants to build a time machine 'cos ~~this story is dumb~~ time machines are cool


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I might post chapter four next (if I get to editing it tonight). I'm currently writing chapter six, and I'm just now posting three. This is one of those stories I've put a lot of time into and really hope others will enjoy it. ^^

Prompto needed only one of his dozens of invention ideas to start working. It had to be approved by Ardyn so the equipment and materials could be ordered.

Only when he started to think about it, none of his ideas were good enough.

He needed a project of the right size, something impressive without being time-consuming. To his surprise, he hadn’t been given a schedule. This scared him more than any impending deadlines—at least then, he would have had a time table to work with. Not knowing terrified him. He could be kicked out on his ass before the end of his first month, with nothing to show but a shiny workshop that would be ready for his replacement.

He envied his successor. He had done a good job with organizing and cleaning. They wouldn’t have to lift a finger when they took over. 

Why was coming up with something so hard when he had always had hundreds of ideas before? Gralea had started to move away from steam-power. Prompto was familiar with its usage and had taken an interest in all sorts of technology. The barcode on his wrist was from a computer, something the people in Insomnia had developed. They knew how to make things compact and simple. There was talk that they were even working on phones that people could carry with them, instead of having to rely on landlines. 

Prompto wanted to be the kind of inventor who came up with those conveniences. But it was lunchtime before he knew it, half the day’s hours tapped away with the end of his pencil. His notes had a few badly scrawled ideas on them.

He crumpled up the paper and tossed it in the trash.

Aranea was waiting for him at their usual table. Biggs and Wedge sat with her discussing a newspaper headline about the technology war with Lucis and their days being in the field. All three of them had been in a real battle. Their current posts were temporary, a retirement from active duty.

“You can’t come up with anything in that genius brain of yours?” asked Aranea doubtfully when Prompto voiced his frustrations. She had a way of sharpening his perspective, keeping him from dawdling outside the lines of his mission. This must have been what made her such a great leader. “What about that idea you had, for parents who need to spend time with their kids?”

She didn’t make fun of him for it, and he appreciated that, but Loqi’s cruel jabs punched hard enough her words couldn’t ice the bruises left behind. 

“I want to redesign vehicles—for war and domestic use. Have them outfitted with better communication devices and weaponry. Make them safer for families to travel.”

“Don’t go redoing the automobile industry yet. Think smaller.”

“Better than submarines.” Prompto nibbled on his lip. “I don’t know.”

“You do,” she pressed. “Think harder. You’ve been excited for this opportunity. Don’t listen to little crybabies like Loqi. What do you want out of this?”

Grand accomplishments and plenty of recognition for them, he thought, but he didn’t voice that part. The glory of being able to help the citizens would have been nice—would have healed years of low self-worth. Being celebrated would help with the loneliness, wouldn’t it? 

But he wasn’t about to tell her how badly he wanted to be the first to build a functioning time machine.

When he didn’t answer for a while, Aranea sighed. “Give it some thought, Prompto. It’s not me you have to answer to—it’s yourself.”

“I know what I want,” said Prompto, relieved that she didn’t expect him to tell her. “But I need a path there. I can’t start at the top. But I can’t aim too low…”

“Don’t try to impress Izunia, either. You already did that. You’re his apprentice, right?”

“Yeah, and I’d like to stay his apprentice, thanks.”

Aranea rolled her eyes. “Okay, sunshine, I’ve got an assignment for you. Go back up to your lab and write down every project you’ve ever thought of, even the silly stuff you came up with as a kid. You don’t have to show anyone the list, but make it. Go through it a few times. I’m sure you’ll see how much potential you have, and if you don’t, come back here and I’ll be sure to knock some sense into you.”

Prompto laughed nervously, because he had no idea if she was kidding or not about the last part. He had a feeling she wasn’t.

“You’ll do that for me, right?” Aranea raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I’ll do that right away. It’s a good idea.” He gulped down the rest of his coffee. “Thanks, Aranea.” He stood and slapped her on the shoulder.

“Anytime,” she said, nodding at him before he turned on his heel and left the cafeteria.

~*~

A list proved more difficult than Prompto first imagined. Even if no one saw it, he wrote every ridiculous invention that had crossed his mind since the age of five. Meaning there was physical evidence of all the pipe dream technology mixed in with the more practical, realistic ideas.

\- safer vehicles  
\- faster submarines, able to stand high water pressure  
\- multipurpose breakfast machine  
\- ghost communicator   
_I was 7 and wanted to talk to a ghost_  
\- mechanical limbs, fully automated  
\- robotic gardening kits  
\- weapons that can take down thick-hided beasts in one shot  
\- flying cameras for photos and video  
 _how do you keep those steady?_  
\- teleportation devices  
\- time machine

Prompto continued to tap his pen against the cabinet. He had forgotten years of silly and spectacular inventions, some of which were imperative to help the people. Kids lost their parents to monsters every day, so perhaps developing a piercing weapon with quick-acting poison on the barb would be effective?

Things like robotic gardening kits and breakfast machines would help reduce working time for parents who had so little to begin with, but those seemed almost silly. They were the sort of thing he could work on when he was running his own division of the research center.

He wanted to go with the flying camera in the end. He needed to find a way to balance it so it wouldn’t shake, blurring images and recordings. It would need to be able to record voices clearly, and be something that would continue to work as it aged—something that any members in the family could turn to when they were missing their loved ones. Best of all, no one would be left out if he developed it so that it operated on its own. Parents would no longer be left out of pictures when the device panned out and auto-focused on a group of people.

Everything for this plan remained in the beginning stages, but Prompto felt confident this was going to be his debut.

He unrolled a long parchment of graph paper and began to map it out. This time, his graphite end of his pencil got to work.

Prompto sucked himself into the project so much he soon forgot all about impressing Ardyn.


	4. Chapter 4

Into week three of Prompto’s apprenticeship, things began to take a strange route.

Work had been going well. The laboratory, once cleaned, had been filled with all the tools Prompto needed to begin tinkering with his automatic camera. Master Izunia had stopped in and scanned over all his blueprints, leaving little penciled-in notes on Prompto’s typed reports. He wasn’t afraid to criticize and equally fond of offering praise.

But when it came to his own work, Ardyn kept his mouth closed tight with a smile and said nothing. Perhaps some of it, Prompto didn’t have the clearance for, and that was understandable—this center held military secrets, after all. Ardyn was otherwise quite friendly, always reassuring Prompto that he had potential.

Prompto wanted to ask if Ardyn knew about his run-in with Loqi, but as one day passed into another, he grew more fearful broaching the subject. He didn’t see Loqi in the halls, and no one had summoned him other than his teacher. 

But on his way home the Friday of the third week, someone on the street stepped in front of Prompto and nearly caused a collision. It didn’t take long into the conversation following to realize the interception had been intentional rather than accidental.

“You’re Ardyn Izunia’s apprentice.” A statement, not a question.

The young man was near Prompto’s age. His cologne smelled expensive and nice, the sort of thing that would use up a whole month’s paycheck to afford. 

“Name’s Dino. You’re Prompto.”

Prompto nodded, too nervous to speak.

“Let’s go somewhere and chat.” It wasn’t an offer. Something in Dino’s voice made it more than a suggestion—something closer to a threat. 

“Where do you have in mind?” The words took way too long to form, and even longer to push out. Wasn’t it better if he declined? But his curiosity won him over. He had to know why this man wanted to speak with him.

“Someplace nice.”

“I don’t really have the money for that…”

“We won’t go anywhere expensive.” Dino’s face was hard to read. He smiled like a predator trying to charm its prey, but he didn’t _look_ like the kind of person who would rob Prompto in an alleyway and take off with his wallet. Not that there was enough in there to bother with if he tried—Prompto hadn’t been kidding about his lack of money. He had only a little before he was paid at the end of the month. When he was rejuvenated, rent and other living costs would eat up most of his funds.

“I’ll follow you.” 

Dino took him to a warehouse restaurant. The building had been gutted, the ceiling held up by old metal columns painted with a fake rust effect. Exposed pipes ran along the brick walls. Chatter echoed in the large space, one conversation undiscernible from the next. No one but the waiter leading them to a table paid them any attention. Dino ordered a pot of coffee for both of them.

Dino pretended to look at his menu before he said, “What’s it like, working for the great Ardyn Izunia?”

“It’s an honor,” said Prompto, wondering how many times he would have to say it before someone finally believed him.

Dino didn’t look impressed. “What’s he like as a teacher?”

“Encouraging,” said Prompto. “He’s critical without being cruel. I’ve never had such fair guidance before.” Some of his professors at university could be downright biting at their kindest. They seemed to think tearing students down would be the key to building them up. If Prompto hadn’t outshined some of his fellow classmates, he might’ve been among the crestfallen his professors left in their wake.

Dino waved his arm, still disinterested. “What’s _the man_ like?”

“Are you some kind of Lucian spy?” whispered Prompto.

“What if I said I was?” Dino grinned. “I’m a reporter.”

“Oh. I guess that explains the interrogation.”

“I’m not interrogating you. I’m asking you some friendly questions over dinner. Speaking of which, I recommend the salmon in mango sauce.”

Prompto didn’t bother to glance at his menu. “Why would a reporter be interested in Master Izunia?”

“Oh, is that what he makes you call him? Like a real master and apprentice, then.” The way he laughed reminded Prompto of his encounter of Loqi.

“I’m not that hungry,” said Prompto decidedly, shutting the menu. He set it down on the table. “I think I’m done here.”

“This little meeting of ours ain’t over yet,” said Dino, reaching across the table and placing his hand over Prompto’s. Something about the look in his eyes froze Prompto to the spot. “I’ve got a lot of questions for you. If you’re worried about the cost, I can pay—if you cooperate.”

The way this young man was dressed, _the way he smelled_ , suggested he had never had to worry a day in his life about money. In fact, Prompto was sure Dino had never had to worry about anything at all.

“If you want to know about Master Izunia, why don’t you ask him for an interview?”

“I know you’re smarter than that. You know the kind of info I want from you.”

“But I don’t have anything to tell you,” admitted Prompto. What could he say? That everyone else at the research center thought Ardyn Izunia was strange, even the ones who were just as weird?

Dino reached into a pocket inside his jacket and withdrew a card. He set it on Prompto’s bare salad plate.

“Maybe you’ll notice something and want to talk to me later,” he said. “Maybe you’ll realize you need me.”

Prompto snorted and stared at the card. Dino Ghiranze? The last name seemed familiar to him, but he couldn’t place it.

“Need you?” asked Prompto. Even as he said it, he picked up the card and tucked it in his pants. “ _You_ need _me_.”

“Maybe we both need each other.”

“I don’t know what I can offer you. I’m at low level clearance, and even if I could tell you something, I wouldn’t.” Prompto glared down Dino, but the show of anger only seemed to further amuse the reporter.

“You should really stay and have the salmon with mango sauce,” said Dino before he took a sip of coffee.

Prompto stood up and fished some gil out of his wallet, enough to cover half the pot of coffee. He slapped a bill on the table. “Goodbye,” he muttered before he turned and made his way out of the restaurant. 

It wasn’t until he was nearly home that he remembered where he had heard the name Ghiranze before. The family-owned jewelry shop. His parents had bought their wedding rings there. He stared at the name on the card as he kicked off his boots inside his apartment. 

According to the card, Dino worked for Meteor, a magazine that didn’t have a lot of credibility. They ran supernatural stories and sensationalized the strange weapons inside Imperial bases. If something they printed wasn’t bullshit, it was because it was unconfirmed either way. 

Prompto groaned. He had wasted almost two hours with a gossip columnist who likely would publish a pack of lies soon, using what few words Prompto had shared against him and Ardyn Izunia. All for some magazine sales.

Prompto knew he should tell Master Izunia about the encounter—warn him that Dino had approached him on the street for information—but the more he thought about it, the more reasons he found to keep his mouth shut. If he had said something stupid, it would get out no matter what, and Prompto would find himself without a career in inventing for the rest of his life within a month.

Until then, he would pretend the two had never met.

Prompto tossed the card toward the trash can by his desk. It missed, but he didn’t care. He’d sweep it up later that week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the part of the story where things start to get interesting. This isn't quite progressing the way I intended when I first came up with the story idea, but I'm having so much fun writing it. I hope you enjoy reading it! I'm open to hearing thoughts, including critique. 
> 
> Dino turned out to be fun to write (but not as much fun as Aranea tbh), but I blame greyskiesblack for making me think more about Dino at all. ;D I want other NPCs to show up, too. I plan for Vyv to make a minor appearance much later on. And I already slipped Loqi in there once, but he's booked for at least a couple of other appearances. 
> 
> A lot of people are curious about Ardyn and are interested in Prompto as a result. Poor Prom.


	5. Chapter 5

The little camera zoomed around Prompto’s apartment. After several scrapped prototypes, this was the one that had learned not to crash into walls. It still needed its sensitivity adjusted. It could detect larger objects and avoid them, but it smacked into small objects sitting on shelves. It also had bad reaction time to moving objects—if something cut into its path, the fluttering device would slap into them and topple to the ground. Landing could be tricky, too.

The mythril ore used to make its balancing wings cost more than a year’s worth of rent in Prompto’s apartment. At least it held together whenever there was an accident; cheaper materials had snapped upon impact.

The device also required further programming. If the mythril was expensive, it was nothing compared to the cost of the computer Ardyn had given Prompto. While the one in the workshop was outdated and had needed an inch of dust removed from its fans, this smaller, compact device allowed Prompto to code from anywhere. He could take it home or to the café.

Computers like this were rare even at university. Prompto had only been taught how to use them under the strict watchdog eyes of his professors. And when Prompto compared this one to those, he trembled to think what would happen if this one were stolen or broken.

He almost didn’t want to use it for fear of harming it.

The camera slapped against a pillow on his bed. It looked like a dumb little creature. Prompto grinned and scooped it up. It fit into the palm of his hand. He had never thought he could make something so small, so round and _cute_. 

“Time to rest, buddy,” he said, clicking it off. He needed a name for it. Currently, it had been dubbed “flying camera project”—completely dull. At university and home, he had always named his devices. It gave him a connection with them.

He put the camera in its foam-lined box before bed. Sometime soon, he hoped to show it off to Aranea. She had been his greatest support, more active than even Ardyn. 

That reminded him: he had a review with Ardyn tomorrow. All the tiredness that had made him stop for the night disappeared as anxiety haunted the corners of his apartment. Even shoving his pillow over his face wouldn’t dispel them.

~*~

“It’s marvelous!” Ardyn held out a hand to the camera, but it didn’t land like a little bird into his palm. 

Prompto lit up. “Do you think so?”

Ardyn turned toward him. “I wouldn’t say so if I didn’t think it! You’ve created such a charming little device. Who knew you could make it so small. This is on par with Lucian technology.”

“Well, I did what I could with what we know about Lucian technology…” said Prompto, fidgeting where he sat. The laptop in front of him had several windows open. One displayed the codes for the camera, while another adjusted the settings. A third one in the left of the screen played out the recording live and saved it to the computer’s storage. 

The room went quiet for a while except for the whirl of the little blades keeping the camera afloat in the air. 

“How does it detect us?” asked Ardyn after some time.

“Heat signatures.”

“Splendid. You know, Prompto, we could use devices like this for families, but it would also help the military.”

Prompto didn’t look up from the codes. “You think?” His high-pitched voice revealed some of his anxiety. “It wasn’t really invented for the military.”

Ardyn began to mess with the coffee maker. Whenever he visited the workshop, he always fixed a pot but seldom drank more than a few sips of one cup. 

“Would you like any?” asked Ardyn.

“Sure. Thanks.”

Prompto jotted down something on a slip of paper. One of the codes could be amended. He would fix that after Ardyn left.

“We could use more spies stationed in Lucis,” continued Ardyn. “It would be a great help to us to have something like this instead of sending in our people, if you could make it smaller.”

“Yeah.” Prompto wasn’t sure how to feel about that. 

“Do you think it would be possible for the camera to film people based on their DNA? That way, a family could set it to film only them, instead of anything capable of producing heat.” Ardyn glanced over his shoulder and smiled.

Prompto considered this. “I wouldn’t know how to do that.”

“Now imagine the technology in the military. We could use an enemy’s genes to find and spy on them. What if we managed to look over Cor the Immortal or even Clarus Amicitia?”

Prompto tapped his pencil against his writing pad. “Sure, I guess. If you used it for that.”

Ardyn finished setting the filter and adding water. He swept over to Prompto and landed one of his hands on his shoulder.

“You must have faith in yourself, Prompto! Your nation would thank you. So would the families who benefit from this camera.”

Somehow, the last sentence felt tacked on for Prompto’s benefit.

Prompto sent a command to the camera to land and shut down. He stood up and cupped it in his palm before it went further than his hip. He didn’t want it to hit the ground, even though he had tested it dozens of times while landing.

He didn’t want anyone else to hold it.

“I don’t know how to make it smaller,” said Prompto, because he didn’t. “And I don’t know how we would get anyone’s blood and put in the program.”

“Not blood—it could be hair or skin cells.”

“True.” Prompto swallowed.

“That would be much better for families. Wouldn’t it be awful if parents had to draw their children’s blood to take a family photo?”

Prompto nodded. 

“But imagine what we could do if we procured hair and skin cells from our enemies, the people who threaten our nation,” said Ardyn. “What if we were able to find out more about the technology Lucis has developed by using these—” He gestured frivolously at the camera with a finger, “—as our eyes?”

Prompto stared at the little camera in his hand. It deserved an adorable project name, something so embarrassingly sweet that would send Loqi into condescending laughter. Something that would make Aranea proud. Would make his parents proud.

“Imagine if you ended the war, Mr. Argentum.”

Prompto pressed his lips together. If the attacks started up again, if Lucis invaded Niflheim, there would be more concerns than parents not spending enough time with their children. There would be orphans and explosions and chaos.

But it didn’t feel _right_.

“I’m sorry,” said Ardyn. “I shouldn’t push you. This isn’t why I hired you as an apprentice. You clearly want to help on a more domestic basis. I sympathize.”

Prompto made sure to switch off the camera manually so it couldn’t reboot when placed it back in its box. 

“I can pack my things by the end of the day,” he said.

“Pack? Whatever for?”

Prompto’s heartbeat thudded in his chest as he looked up through his eyelashes at Ardyn. He gripped the end of a worktable with both palms, worrying the wooden polish with his bitten-down nails.

“You’re going to end my apprenticeship, right?”

“Dear boy, no!” Ardyn smiled, but it didn’t seem as warm as Prompto might have interpreted it before that morning. “You’re doing excellent. These are your inventions. I’m only asking to borrow them, but you’re free to decline.”

“That doesn’t sound patriotic.”

Ardyn rolled his eyes and waved aside the worry, but all of it stank of exaggeration. How had Prompto never noticed before?

“You weren’t brought here to develop anything for the military. You’re here to have the materials you desire for your genius inventions without having to worry about costs. I’m here to help you, in whatever way you need.”

None of what Ardyn said _seemed_ like a lie. He had been nothing short of supportive, having offered coffee, criticism, advice, and enrichment. Not once had he asked for a thing in return until now.

Prompto pushed aside his ungrateful doubts and nodded. “I’ll think about what you said. Maybe if I work on it some more, I’ll know by then.”

“That’s all I ask. You’re allowed to refuse me.” 

“Yes. Thank you, Master Izunia.”

“Any time.” Ardyn left the room, never once getting his cup of coffee.

Prompto swallowed down two cups in fast succession and stared at the box on the table like it was a bomb that hadn’t been detonated yet. And he was responsible for its creation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, Ardyn's showing his true colors. Poor Prom. 
> 
> I have a lot of chapters written for this. If you are reading this, thanks so much. This story has been one of my fave projects to work on lately, but it's also among my least popular so...I'm open to concrit if anyone wants to offer it. If I can make it better, or apply that crit to something in the future, then only good can come of it~


	6. Chapter 6

Prompto stared at the card for so long, he memorized the number on it. All he had to do was pick up a phone, call, and ask why Dino was interested in Ardyn Izunia. The conversation didn’t have to _go_ anywhere. 

He should have thrown the card away, but he hadn’t. Perhaps in his subconscious, he had known that everyone who said something was off about Ardyn had been right.

He dialed.

“Hello?”

Prompto had to clear his throat before he could speak. “Yeah, it’s…Prompto.”

“Ah, yes, I recognize your voice. You don’t sound as angry this time. Need something?”

Prompto twirled the phone cord in his finger. “No. Yeah. Well, maybe.”

“Total rollercoaster ride there,” said Dino, not hiding his sarcasm. “Hey, I’ve got to finish my shift. How about we get something to drink when it’s over? You name the place, I’ll meet you there at seven-thirty.”

“There’s a café by my house,” said Prompto. “I go there sometimes.” He liked to study in the quiet atmosphere when he had a bit of spare cash to buy a drink. Tea sounded particularly delicious and calming after his interview earlier that week. He gave Dino the address. “Can you promise not to report on anything we discuss tonight?”

Dino snorted. “Depends on what you tell me. I get the impression you don’t know much.”

“Then why do you want to talk to me?”

“You know why. See you at seven-thirty, Prompto.” There was a click, and the line went dead.

Prompto returned the phone to its cradle and stretched out on his bed, staring at the ceiling fan. Had he made a mistake? In two hours, he would be seeking answers from a reporter.

He only hoped he wasn’t seen with Dino.

~*~

“Didn’t know you wore glasses.”

Prompto had brushed his hair differently and taken out his contacts for their meeting. He wore a peacoat he had purchased from the pawn shop on the way to his meeting with Dino, too.

“Oh, you’re worried about us being seen together.”

Prompto took a sip of his iced tea to ease the dryness in his throat. Otherwise, he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to speak. “Why are you interested in Master Iz—Ardyn?”

Dino smirked. “You could say I’m a fan of his work. The kind you probably don’t know about. He has secrets with his boss, Besithia.”

“Verstael Besithia?”

“Yup.”

Prompto leaned back in his chair. “He’s the minister of the research center.”

“Your boss’s boss.”

Prompto nodded.

“You ever met him?”

“No.” Prompto’s eyes darted around the café. There were only a few patrons as nighttime fell over the city. In Gralea, it got cold fast in the winter. He kept his voice low as a precaution. “I don’t have a lot of clearance.”

“For now, I’d be happy to find out more about this master of yours.” 

Prompto mulled over how he could describe Ardyn.

“He’s generous. He always tells me I can ask for anything I want, and that’s after he has given me things I didn’t think I’d be allowed to work with yet, like a computer. I’ve never been turned down for an order request—not yet. And…” Prompto shrugged. “I don’t know. He’ll make a pot of coffee like he’s going to sit down and have a cup with you, but then he leaves after a few sips or doesn’t have any at all. I end up drinking it all, otherwise it’d go to waste.”

Dino laughed. “Is that why you ordered tea?”

Prompto glanced down at his iced tea. The thought of having to drink more coffee made him feel sick.

Dino twirled a pen in his fingers. “So he’s someone who can get you anything you want, and he’s indulgent. That’s not much information to go on.”

Prompto fidgeted. They were in a public space, but the alternative would have been inviting Dino to his home.

“I think he’s using me,” whispered Prompto, leaning forward.

Dino raised his eyebrows and let out a low whistle. “All right, I’m gonna need details on why you think that.”

Prompto wasn’t sure he trusted Dino less or more than he trusted Ardyn. At least he knew Ardyn—respected him, was indebted to him. He worried his lip with his teeth. His entire career could be on the line.

“Maybe this was a bad idea,” he muttered, staring down at the coffee stains on the table. “I shouldn’t be talking to you.”

“If he gave you a bad feeling, you should listen to your gut.”

“And what if my gut has a bad feeling about you?”

Dino laughed. “Then it’d be right. I’m as bad as they come, but at least I come by it honestly. How much does this master of yours tell you?”

Prompto closed his eyes for a minute. His parents had taken him into their home when he was a baby, but would they want him again if he shamed himself across the headlines in Gralea newspapers? 

“I don’t know if I’m ready after all,” he said, glancing up at Dino.

“All right.” Dino’s voice was soft, and he looked more amused than angry. After a few minutes of locked gazes, Dino said, “You’re not moving.”

“Would it be better if we went somewhere else?”

“Finish your tea first.”

Prompto finished it off in a few minutes, wishing he could savor the sweet flavor.

“Where are we going?” asked Dino, smirking.

“My place.”

~*~

Prompto lifted a box of tools from the cushion on his battered sofa and slid it into a corner of the room. 

“Sorry, I usually keep it clean unless I’m working,” said Prompto as Dino took a seat on the cleared space. 

“You must work a lot,” said Dino, lifting a rag out from between the cushions. He tossed it in the laundry basket next to the bed. “Your place is…quaint.”

“I can’t afford anything bigger on my apprenticeship,” said Prompto. “And that barely covers this place.”

“This is pretty cheap housing.”

“Maybe for you.”

Dino grinned, all teeth and wolf. “You’ve got me there. But this ain’t Insomnia. Places half as bad cost twice as much.”

Prompto removed a pile of half-folded laundry from the armchair to the bed and took a seat in its place. “Have you been to Insomnia?”

“I do my research.”

“I’m never getting a straight answer out of you.”

“What else do you expect from a reporter?”

Prompto reached for his measuring tape off the milk crate he used for a coffee table. He began to fumble with the end, letting it click back into the dispenser before pulling it out again. 

“Ardyn has given me the freedom of my own lab,” said Prompto, staring intensely at the numbers on his tape until his eyes watered and they blurred together. “I started working on a camera. Something family-friendly. It wasn’t meant to be used for anything awful. Two days ago, I had a review with Ardyn.” He let the measuring tape’s end go, and it snapped back into a roll. “He wanted me to use the camera for spying. I told him I’d think about it.”

Prompto glanced up at his company. Dino had managed to pull out a pen and pad as they were talking and was jotting something down.

“Wait, are you quoting me?”

“Taking notes. You’re not a source yet. That’s for me to decide—if I like your information.”

Prompto leaned back in his chair, letting the measuring tape drop into his lap. “Oh.”

“You wanna give me details?”

Prompto—to the best of his memory—went over the conversation. His retelling involved more of his mixed feelings and emotions and paraphrased quotes, but Dino’s pen never paused. 

Dino handed over his pad. “If you want to see what I wrote.”

Prompto read through it. Most of it had to do with Ardyn, little notes about his character quirks, like the unfinished coffees and the falsified kindness when he asked for favors.

“I have more about him,” said Dino, reaching over and flipping to earlier in the notebook. Dino had pasted articles and notes about Ardyn’s accomplishments, his previous newspaper interviews, and a few other details that connect pieces in Prompto’s head. All the fragments came together with magnetic energy in his mind. Ardyn was a man of greatness and knew it.

“He’s using me,” muttered Prompto, fingering one article where Ardyn spoke of his last apprentice and took full credit for the “discovery” he made in her talents. “Do you have anything on her death?”

“I couldn’t find much, and I looked better than anyone else ever could.” Dino took the notebook back and fished through the pages until he found a spread with a few news articles glued to the pages. His fine print clogged the margins of the notebook. 

Prompto read through these as well, but Dino was right—no one had a lot of information on her death. Ardyn mourned her, or at least appeared to be distraught by the loss. He refused interviews at the time, stating that it would be some time before he could consider taking on another apprentice.

“I’m the first one in years. I wonder what made him change his mind?”

“Thing is, he goes to the university at least once a year to review the students,” said Dino, leaning forward. “It isn’t as if he hasn’t been looking. He spotted something in you. Far as I can pull up, you’re an average, ordinary guy who did well in a couple of subjects. Not so great with most of your classes in high school. University’s where you started to shine.”

“Wait! Don’t tell me you spied on me?!” Prompto had been quiet among his fellow university students about his abysmal grades. When it came to languages and history, his studies had suffered, but in math and science, he had always excelled—depending on what branch. 

“Hey, I’m not gonna tell anyone!” Dino waved his arm. “Don’t feel bad about it. I only looked into you to see what Ardyn saw, nothing more.”

“And what do you think he saw?”

“Someone to use, like you said. You were top of your class in university. That has to account for something. You managed to get the most coveted position an upcoming inventor could want, and it came easy for you. Maybe you ought to tell me what kind of ideas you were working on back then. What do you think might’ve caught his eye?”

Prompto nibbled on his lip. He remembered many of his projects, but he would have to hunt down his essays first. They were what Ardyn had read when making his decision—those and the interviews, but Prompto could scarcely remember what he had said to Ardyn. His papers and application were what landed him the interview in the first place.

“I can find my papers, but I don’t know,” admitted Prompto. “Can you give me a few days to hunt them down?”

Dino smirked. “I’ve got plenty of time if this story turns out big enough.”

“Why Ardyn? You work for Meteor. That paper is known for…”

“Conspiracy theories? Not entirely. My boss doesn’t want it to be that kind of paper. He wants to let people know about the things no one else will tell them.”

“Meteor doesn’t have proof for the stories they print. Everyone knows that.” Prompto’s parents used to talk about it at dinner, when he was still living at home—on the rare nights they were around.

“We have proof, but when we print it, we get scoffed at,” said Dino. “All those rumors about mindless soldiers? Those aren’t untrue. The photos are real. I should know—I took them myself.”

“They’re terrible shots,” said Prompto, having seen them. He shrugged his shoulder.

“How would you know?”

“Photography is a hobby.”

“So you think you can take better photos than me?”

Prompto’s eyes widened. “I never said that. I just thought yours weren’t…that great.”

“Yeah, well, try getting close enough to an Imperial base first. It ain’t as easy as you think.”

Prompto had never seen a military base—had never once stepped a foot outside of Gralea. There were reportedly several bases near the border of Tenebrae, where the royal family continued to push back as Niflheim attempted to annex their state. 

“They’re heavily guarded for good reason,” said Dino. “I risked my life to take those photos. Maybe you ought to consider a career change when we uncover the dirt on Izunia. I’m sure Vyv will hire you when no one else will after we blow the lid on Ardyn Izunia’s secrets.” The way Dino smirked made Prompto want to punch him.

But Dino had a point: no one would want to hire a whistleblower.


	7. Chapter 7

Prompto arrived for work an hour early to chat with Aranea. In the crowded cafeteria, he couldn’t show off his project’s functions. He wasn’t ready for the attention, especially in its unfinished stages. It still had a tendency to misread surfaces. The worst thing that could happen would be if it decided to land in someone’s mashed potatoes or chicken soup—even if it was waterproofed, which it _wasn’t._

Prompto led her to an area of the research center’s yard, tucked away behind rusted shipping containers. Aranea leaned against one and watched the device flutter in the air.

Prompto discovered another issue when the object began to move jerkily around them. He hastily demanded a landing and let it rest in his palm. 

“I need to insulate it somehow,” he said. “The cold is freezing it up.”

Aranea laughed. “So even inventions can catch colds.”

Prompto tucked it back inside its box. “What do you think?”

“I think it’s cute. I like it. Did it take any pictures of us?”

Prompto nodded. “Yeah, you can see them on the computer later on.”

“Nice. I hope it captured my flattering side.”

Prompto’s face tickled as a blush crept across his cheeks. “Of course it did,” he muttered. “Every side of you is flattering.”

“Oh, say that again. I’d like to hear that a second time.”

“You weren’t supposed to hear it the first time!”

Aranea laughed. “Thanks, Prompto. I already know I’m pretty, but it’s nice to hear someone else say it now and then.”

“You don’t hear it all the time?”

“Not in this place,” said Aranea, nodding her head toward the main building. “And when you hear it while stationed out, it’s not so flattering coming from crusty older men who only care about what’s on your chest or between your legs. They like a nice face, I guess, but that’s not what they’re after.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I never was. I could deal with them again, if I had to.” Aranea shrugged. “But let’s talk about your camera. That’s why you showed up early, right? What does Ardyn think?”

“Master Izunia was impressed when he reviewed me, but he wants to use the technology for spy cameras.” After spilling the secret to Dino, he doesn’t see why he shouldn’t discuss it with Aranea, too. “Something about the way he asked gave me the creeps. I don’t know, maybe he has a point. Maybe he’s sick of this war, too.”

“Everyone’s sick of the war. It isn’t as if I disagree with him, either. It could be useful if you design it right.”

“I would like to try,” admitted Prompto. “Even though I don’t want anything I do to hurt others, I’m curious if I could design and code it to do the things he mentioned.”

“What did he mention?”

Prompto repeated the conversation with Ardyn to her in detail. She listened, never once interrupting him. The more he talked about it, the more ridiculous it sounded—as if he had exaggerated how strange his mentor had come off that day. 

Perhaps he had misinterpreted Ardyn. If so, it had been a grave mistake to call Dino.

Prompto wanted to mention Dino to Aranea, but he thought better of it. She might have reason to turn against him if she found out he was consorting with a possible enemy. There were other ways of mentioning the topic without revealing his meetings with Dino.

“Do you know about the magazine, Meteor?” asked Prompto.

Aranea snorted. “Everyone knows about that trash. Biggs always brings us copies so we can read through the articles about how we have soulless humanoid weapons and how vampires walk the streets of Gralea. Never hurts to have something to laugh at, I guess. Why do you mention it?”

“I noticed the last name of one of the authors,” said Prompto. “His last name is Ghiranze—the same as the jewelry store. Makes me wonder why anyone would ever want to write tabloids when they could work a cushy job at their parents’ store.”

“Maybe his parents didn’t offer him a position.”

Prompto felt only a little guilty that he could easily see why they might not want Dino behind the counter. He made note to ask Dino about it the next time they met up. If Dino could ask prying questions, surely Prompto was allowed to do the same?

“Are you always that observant?” asked Aranea. 

“Yeah, I guess,” said Prompto. “I never make the most obvious connections, but it is a unique last name. Stuff like that stands out.”

Aranea chuckled. “That probably helps you when you’re reading all that science-y stuff. I only know how to use the things other people make. I know how to break them, too. But all the details with coding and design? I don’t have the patience for that. You’re something else, Prompto.”

“Are you going to call me a genius again?” He grinned.

“Would you finally believe me if I did?”

He shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

“Then I’ll save it for when you’re ready to believe me.” She pushed away from the storage container by her elbows and nudged him with one. “Come on, let’s go inside before we freeze.”

“Thanks for coming out here,” said Prompto. His suspicions about Master Ardyn had lessened, but he wanted her to assume he was talking about the device. He considered calling the whole thing off with Dino and returning to what he knew and loved best: inventing. 

“Hey, Aranea?”

She turned to him. “Yeah?”

“What if I named it after you? Not your first name, your last—I could call it the _Highwind_.” Prompto nibbled on his lip when she didn’t answer right away. 

After a bit, she grinned. “I like that. _Highwind_. Not sure why you’d want to name it after me, though.”

“You helped me out a lot. I would have failed my first review if you hadn’t been there to support me.”

Aranea rolled her eyes and nudged him. “You did all that yourself. You built this!”

“Thanks anyway, even if you are being modest.”

“You want to argue about modesty?” She put a hand on her hip and stared him down. When he didn’t reply, she pivoted on her heel. “Come on, let’s not stand out here and catch cold. We’ve got jobs to do—I’ve got to watch this place so people like you can change the world.”

He ducked his head and smiled before he hurried after her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think Aranea is my favorite FFXV character to write. She comes easily to me, I only hope that I'm not being overly confident 'cos I know I could be seeing her differently than someone else does.
> 
> I'm still torn because sometimes I think this fic isn't going to have ships, and then I think I want Prompto to date Dino _and_ Aranea. 
> 
> Also, this is the last chapter for a while...I'm still stuck on chapter eight. (Not from lack of ideas, but inspiration has been pouring itself into other fics!)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't updated in forever, but onpanwa has been supportive and encouraged me to get back to this fic! I am almost done with the next chapter, too, so maybe I won't wait another three and a half months to update this?

An intruder sat in Prompto’s favorite chair in his laboratory. One who used the coffee pot, looked around, and then made himself comfortable. Prompto saw the evidence of prying eyes—projects faced different directions, tools had been moved, papers were scattered across the surfaces of the tables. 

Loqi swished his coffee around with a stirrer. From the way it clattered against the ceramic, there wasn’t much liquid left inside. How long did Loqi wait for him?

“You’re finally here, Argentum.” 

“I’m on time.” Prompto took in pride in his perfect attendance since starting his apprenticeship. “How did you get in?”

Loqi huffed and lifted his arm, keys dangling from his finger. He swung them a few times and let them twirl through the air. Prompto caught them between his palms. He didn’t recognize the set. They weren’t Ardyn’s—those had a moogle charm attached to the main ring. 

“Some people should keep better track of their things.”

Prompto ran his thumb along the teeth of one of the keys. “Did you steal these from someone?”

“No, they were misplaced. I’m simply returning them.”

Loqi stood and sauntered over to the computer. He set his mug beside a computer before he began to pace the room, weaving between the tables.

“This place is magnificent. Hardly the pathetic little room it was before you arrived.” Loqi punctuated his words with graceful waves of his hands. “This isn’t the same room Ardyn’s last apprentice used.”

“Did you know her?”

Loqi rolled his eyes. “As if I’m old enough to have worked here at the same time she did.”

“You’re old enough to have gotten into scuffles with Cor the Immortal.”

Loqi curled his nose, puffing up his shoulders. “I’ll have you know, I was in the military before this stalemate with Lucis.” He approached Prompto, leaning in close. “I believe Izunia is developing something we can use against them. I want to ask you to find out what it is.”

“Why should I?” Prompto had grown more than tired of everyone calling in favors from him—especially people he barely knew. “What would you offer me in return?”

“My knowledge.”

“Oh, about mechs? What can you tell me about them that I don’t already know?” Prompto might have been fresh as newly sprung grass at his job, but he wasn’t stupid. Every official manual available to the public and to universities about mechs had crossed his desk at some point or another. He attended workshops dismantling old models and putting them back together again, learning what had gone wrong and what technology they had improved over the years. He had built miniature models of them.

Loqi scowled. “You don’t have military knowledge.”

“I’m not even here to build mechs.” Prompto turned away, hoping that would be the end. Even though he had already planned to spy on Ardyn for Dino, he didn’t have any reason to share his information with Loqi.

“Perhaps I can tell you more about a certain woman we both know. The one I see you spending so much time with. You’re interested in her, correct?”

Prompto started to laugh until he turned and saw Loqi’s determined face.

“I’m not interested in Aranea,” said Prompto. “She’s a friend. Nothing more. You’re reading way too much into that.” He chuckled—he couldn’t wait to tell Aranea how Loqi interpreted their relationship. That might have fatal repercussions for Loqi, but it wouldn’t be any skin off his back. 

“Is that why you named your little device ‘Highwind’?” Loqi reached over and tapped the locked box that held the flying camera.

“How do you know?”

“Happened to find its name on your paperwork when it came across Besithia’s desk.”

Prompto had forgotten he wrote a report about his recent invention and sent it to the head of the facility. He almost asked Loqi what Verstael Besithia thought about the device, but he would find out about it soon enough in a review. His final tweaks were approved by Ardyn three days prior. 

“I named it after a supportive friend,” said Prompto. “I mean, if I liked her, I think it would’ve been harder to ask her if I could name it after her. Way harder.” He let out a soft laugh. Any time he had been around someone he had a crush on, he turned into a stuttering moron. “Haven’t you ever had a close friend?”

The sour expression that darted across Loqi’s face suggested he didn’t know the meaning of the word.

“I don’t have time for friends! I have something better. Comrades.” 

Prompto felt a little sorry for him. “We could be friends.”

“Hah.” Loqi rolled his eyes and took a step closer to Prompto. “What can I offer you, then? You drive a hard bargain.”

Prompto squeaked and backed away. “Nothing from you. Can you…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Can you get out of my lab now? I need to get some work done.”

“Your lab, is it? You’re nothing but an overconfident newbie! You need me to gain a foothold in this company—and make no mistake, despite our military ties, this is still a company. Friends get you to high places.” Loqi closed in on Prompto and leaned in with an oily grin on his face. “We can either be friends, or we can be enemies.”

“I doubt you’d see me as a friend,” said Prompto. “But I have no idea what Master Izunia is developing. We don’t share a lab. My only option is to be enemies with you, because I don’t know anything. Maybe you should tell me more about your ambitions. Why you’re here.”

Loqi frowned and whipped his head toward the coffee station. He began pouring a second cup of coffee, mixing in an astonishing amount of sugar and cream. Once he finished stirring it all in, he leaned against the counter, glaring at Prompto.

“You really don’t know anything?”

“No.”

Loqi tilted his head back and shrugged the bangs out of his eyes before he let out a long, theatrical sigh. “I don’t trust Izunia. Others might have nothing but praise for him, but I think he’s developing something for his own purposes. I don’t think Ardyn is on our side.”

“Our side?” Prompto echoed. “What makes you think he’s not loyal?”

“I think he murdered his previous apprentice because she knew something he didn’t want her to know. Either something about him or his secret projects. He’s also hiding something in Zegnautus Keep, but I’m not sure what it is. Not a lot of people have clearance there.”

“Zegnuatus Keep?”

“What are you, a parrot? Stop repeating parts of what I say. It’s annoying.”

“You’re making it real hard to work with you, did you know that?” Prompto frowned.

Loqi curled his nose and took a sip of his coffee. His face scrunched up further, and he turned around to toss in more sugar and cream. 

“I’m not here to be your friend,” said Loqi. He paused to take a taste of his coffee. “I’m here to ally with you against a greater evil, for the good of the Empire.”

Prompto didn’t know who to mistrust the most: Loqi or Ardyn. And then there was Dino, whose ambitions were less clear to him but seemed more thoughtful than the selfishness he detected from the other two.

What _did_ he think of Dino? Not a bad guy, but suspicious in other ways. 

If Prompto allied himself with Loqi, though, he could learn intel he wouldn’t otherwise have access to—information that might be useful to Dino. He could gauge the two as he worked with them. But did he want to get caught up that far in this?

“I’ll have to think about this,” said Prompto. “Master Izunia gave me a great opportunity, and I have a lot of freedom. I don’t want to screw this up.” He smoothed his fingers over the box that held Highwind. He had made one good friend at this facility, and he could get along well enough with Biggs and Wedge—even if they lived in a different world from his, they all respected Aranea. They would always have her in common. 

They weren’t the type to blindly follow someone. They were loyal to the Empire, but only within reason. Wouldn’t they agree with Prompto that if Ardyn were betraying them all, using whoever he needed to achieve his goals, that he was a man unworthy of admiration?

He would speak with Dino more. If the reporter knew anything about Loqi, it might help him decide whether he could trust him—at least with some tidbits of information passed between the two of them. 

Loqi was right. They would never be friends. Prompto had a feeling Loqi put more thought into his hair than he did into other people’s feelings or his relationships with them.

“You’ll see it my way,” said Loqi, taking another sip of his coffee. “I’ll be in my lab when you change your mind.”

Loqi left, and Prompto didn’t have the courage to tell him to leave his coffee mug behind. If this continued, there wouldn’t be any cups left for Prompto.

**Author's Note:**

> I will probably update this rather slowly because I'm waiting on Episode Prompto to see if it answers...questions I have that might influence this story. :')


End file.
